Star Wars Episode I: The Ultimate Rewrite
by Deezmartini
Summary: A rewrite of the first film in the prequel trilogy. Dark Fantasy meets science fiction in this dramatic space saga, where enemies lurk all levels between the alliances of good and evil. Revisit a world that is familiar yet foreign as you follow young Anakin Skywalker and a host of fellow interesting characters as they attempt to survive a brutal and unforgiving galaxy.
1. Chapter 1

PROLUGE

Sidious walked through the darkness with his master. The night sky was an opaque mask that not even the stars could break through. Insects chirped incessantly as Sidious' heavy boots stepped onto moongrass and tiny collections of grayflower. Darth Plaugeis walked ahead of him, hunched over while a cane supported his every step. Sidious narrowed his eyes as he lowered a hooded head, the cowl of his clothing obscuring his face.

_He seems weak. But I learned long ago that looks can be deceiving. _Sidious could feel the dark side energy curling around his master. Plaugeis did not just use the dark side of the force; or _Bogan, _as he called it. He was the _center of it. _Sidious simply manipulated the force- Plagueis created it. For some time, when Sidious was simply an initiate he foolishly believed the dark side came from his master. Those young and ignorant beliefs were crushed when Sidious learned the brutal history of his order.

Plaugeis lead him through a winding path through a thick forest. Groves surrounded them on every side, clustered of ill-formed trees with sagging branches. Leaves grew ill-colored and deformed, with a faint glowing aura that put Sidious on edge. They walked slowly, complete silence taking space between the Dark Lord and his young protégé. Sidious remembered when he had first found Plaugeis : He had been given a choice, at that time. A choice that could have saved the deaths of millions that were to come. He chose power instead of justice. At some points, Sidious wondered if he had made the right decision. But on nights like these, when he and his master would stand in the vortex of swirling dark side energy, he knew he had picked correctly. There was a clarity to the Bogan; a soothing reassurance that teased power at greater and greater heights. It was impossible to learn everything of the Dark Side. The Jedi believed it to be evil incarnate. But Sidious knew better. The Dark Side was not evil completely- it was _possibility. _

They came to a clearing in the wood. White grass stood to Sidious' knees, maintained in a small circle that was guarded by trees on the outside perimeter. At the center of the clearing, an ecliptic stone structure was found.

On top of it laid a fair girl, completely naked.

"The Dark Side has allowed me glimpses of the future while the Jedi stagnate in growing darkness." Plagueis coughed. His voice was rattled by cybernetics that kept him alive from a previous near-death experience. Sidious did not know who could have wounded his great Master, but he did know whoever it was possessed neigh-godlike power. Plaugeis lurched forward on his cane, moving slowly towards the girl.

"The Dark Side, my apprentice, is not just power. It has the capabilities of _creation. _When one controls such power, what does he become?" Plagueis turned his head towards Sidious. Underneath his master's hood, Sidious could still easily make out the face that lurked in the darkness. Yellow eyes _glowed_ from a ruined face- red and charred. Robotic implants were crudely attached to his lower neck and Sidious knew that further down, a box-like contraption jutted from Plagueis chest, keeping his dying heart alive and constant.

"A god." Sidious marveled. He approached the girl as well, eying her with a critical gaze.

"You created her?" He asked, disbelief in his voice. Plaugeis threw his head back and _laughed. _It was a sick sound, full of phlegm and spittle, but Sidious was so taken aback by the sudden emotional outburst that came from his always-somber Master, he could do nothing but smile dumbly. After a few moments, Plaugeis' laughter died down as he rested both hands on his cane.

"No. She is a local girl. Faint traces of the _force_ are found within her. Beautiful and unaligned. She was not strong enough to become a Jedi, but the blood of the _Old Order_ dwells within her." Plageuis reached out and ran his hand down the girl's supple thigh.

_The Old Order. _ Many years ago, before the Sith Wars, the Jedi had served a Republic. After the Seventh Battle of Ruusan, however, Jedi Lord Hoth Valorum converted the Republic into an Empire, crowning himself Hoth Valorum I. It was then the Old Jedi died. They were replaced by a New Order, one that paled in comparison to the Jedi of old.

"What is her purpose?" Sidious looked down at the female. She had a fair face, light brown hair falling down round cheeks. She possessed a slim yet womanly body, and her lips were puckered in a faint smile.

"She dreams happily." Sidious noted when Plageuis did not answer his question. His Master bobbed his head in agreement.

"I have placed her in a dream-like state. Her body is experiencing an explosion of rapid endorphin release, combined with steady pumps of serotonin. What she feels now is akin to a never-ending alpha-spice high." Plageuis hovered a hand above her face.

"Unlike my predecessor, I do not believe in wanton brutality. She will serve our purpose well-enough as she is. If she were to be aware of what was happening to her . . . things could go awry."

"What is your purpose, Master?" Sidious asked for a second time. Plagueis lifted his head to the skies as he spoke.

"Long ago, the Sith learned the secret to eternal life. They also learned how to _create_ life. It was through that alchemy the Sith species were able to produce offspring with the rogue human Jedi who fled their order. For millennia, half-sith hybrids ruled the Sith Expanse. But that is beside the point . . ." Plagueis coughed, harder this time, and Sidious stepped back in disgust as red mucus flew from Plagueis' mouth and onto the white stomach of the girl below their gaze.

"The Sith were a jealous people. They attempted to hide the secrets of this art from others, and that lead to be to their own detriment. Sith magicks resulting in ever-lasting life, body regeneration, and trans-galactic teleportation were lost to our order. Philosophy died with those skills, while focus was put towards martial training as our Order became more warlike. The cleansing that Bane initiated at the end of the Ruusan conflict repurposed our creed." Plagueis leaned forward and almost lovingly wiped his bloody muck off of the girl's body.

"I know that you researched ancient Sith alchemy. But I was lead to believe those were dead ends." Sidious grew angry within himself. His Master refused to share many of his secrets with him, despite the fact that Sidious was to carry on their legacy.

"initially," Plaugeis answered. "But through translation, backwards decryption, and various Sith holocrons, I have made a breakthrough. I am . . . on the cusp of gaining eternal life . . . "

Sidious smirked at that. Plaugeis feared death. In a way he pitied his Master- Plaugeis was an old being, much older that the young Sidious. His crafty master no doubt would not succeed in finishing all of his experiments, stepped in Sith mythology and science. He returned his ears to the voice of his master.

" . . . Earlier, I asked you what you would call a being that created life. You answered a _god. _Creating life is the key to eternal life, my apprentice. I have found hints from the ancient texts of Sith Hybridization, and adapted them to my own uses. But I still require something else. I require a seed." Plaugeis finished.

Sidious watched his Master warily as he produced a vial.

"This contains portions of my life force. Portions of my power. I realize now that I will not live long enough to complete my goals. My mind is sound, yet my body is no longer sustained by the Bogan. I require a living _vessel _that my spirit can reside in. This woman . . . she will produce a seed that has the same mutation that I carry, the same trait that causes me to generate force _energy._ With the help of this vial . . . and your seed." Plaugeis lifted the small cylinder up, astonishment in his voice.

"My legacy is contained within this container. Once the child is born, it will have the same partial genetic makeup as I do. It will possess my power. It will grow to into a boy, and that is when I will take the body for myself. With that . . . I should have enough time to discover the secret that our forebears have hidden."

Sidious knew where this was going.

"You want me to . . . procreate with this woman?"

Plaugeis laughed deeply, unnerving Sidious.

"Yes. And at the moment of conception, I will insert my legacy. You . . . may begin."

With wide eyes, Sidious obediently began to disrobe, nothing but a tool to be used in his master's machinations.

-CHAPTER ONE-

Nute Gunray rubbed his temples. Ever since he was a young hatchling, headaches had robbed him of any sort of comfortable life. He possessed a deformity that caused him to have a larger-than-normal brain. It was a veiny and unsightly thing, bulbous and round. He wore a traditional headdress to cover the over-growth, but that did not stop the pain. He opened his red eyes, pupils black slits within the bulging organs.

"The Empire has sent a delegation? Lott Dodd has not given me any information regarding such a development!" Nute said as he sat in his chair. It was uncomfortable- a thing of metal that hurt his buttocks after long days of managing the Trade Federation. Ruune Hako, a fellow _Neimoidian_, ran a small green tongue across dry lips.

"Lott Dodd has said that the Empire did this without consulting the Rotunda . . . " Ruune Hako had a tittering way of speech that annoyed Nute beyond compare. That, added to his chronic headaches, made Ruune a bothersome fellow. Still; he had his uses, so his life was not totally wasted. Nute Gunray lifted chubby hands to his face again. He wanted to _drink- _Tarisian ale or the harder spirits from Corellia- Alcohol seemed to be the only substance that dulled the pain in his head.

"That is illegal." He said with a sort of finality, almost as if that statement would make the Jedi disappear.

"What we are doing is _illegal. _Once the senate-" Ruune's frantic voice was cut off by Nute's raised hand.

"As long as Lott Dodd keeps them in the dark, we have nothing to fear. Our party contains more seats than the Imperial House on the Rotunda. As long as he keeps convincing the Rim Worlds to delay votes on a investigative warrant on Naboo-"

Ruune lowered his face, and leaned in closer towards Nute Gunray.

"And what will we do once the _Jedi_ arrive?"

"_The Jedi will not be allowed to survive this day." _

Nute Gunray's heart jumped as that garbled voice reached his ears. Ruune Hako moved from his place in front of Nute, giving him a sight he would rather not see. From the crab-like holoprojector that tapped at the durasteel flooring, a shimmering blue hologram rose. The figure was robed, and its face was nothing but a black hole of darkness, contained by a heavy cowl.

_How did he know what we were speaking of? How did he know?! _

Nute Gunray tugged at his collar. He was sweating. The garments he wore cost him a fortune, and now he was _sweating _in them.

"Lord Sidious, I-"

"Nute Gunray," Sidious began almost comfortingly, "I do hope you were not planning to _hide _the arrival of the Jedi from me." The Dark Lord folded his arms into his sleeves.

Ruune Hako began to speak, but nothing came out but a pitiful squeal. Nute shot him a look of disdain and gave a grotesque smile.

"No, of course not Lord Sidious. We were simply thinking of how to deal with this new development."

Sidious made a chuckling sound. At least Nute thought it was laughter. Humans were so different from Neimoidians; he was not sure as of yet the meaning and full spectrum of their physical actions.

"You will allow the Jedi to land. You will allow them to speak with you. You will not allow them to survive their journey back to Coruscant." Sidious ordered.

Ruune Hako gasped as if he had been stabbed.

"How can we explain two Jedi deaths to the Senate? You promised us riches! We will not survive thi-"

Ruune Hako gripped his throat. He fell to his knees, and Nute Gunray _watched _as Hako's eyes widened, while his face lost color. He stammered as the deck crew began to take notice. Some made moves to help him.

"Get back to your stations!" Nute screamed as Ruune gave him a lingering look that begged for help. Finally, Hako fell onto his stomach, convulsing into death as the stench of his voided bowels quickly filled the command center of their craft.

"Nute Gunray." Sidious said neutrally.

Nute refocused his eyes onto the Dark Lord.

"Yes, Lord Sidious?" He sucked up to the man like a Neimoidian swamp-hound.

"Do you still employ the Black Sun pirates in the Rim sectors?" Sidious questioned.

_Of course. Ruune Hako you fool. You would still be alive if you had just waited. Sidious is on our side, he would never betray us. _

"Yes, My Lord."

Sidious nodded his head slowly.

"Ruune Hako died because he failed to act according to my will. I have given you a small _hint _as to how to take care of the Jedi. Do not fail me."

The hologram vanished.

Nute Gunray sighed into his seat. Sweat dripped from his bulbous face, and his collar was slick with moisture.

"Someone clean up . . . Ruune." He ordered. In seconds, two humans came and retrieved the body. The smell, however, still lingered. An oval-shaped viewport gave Nute Gunray a landscape view of Naboo. It was a bright planet, green but small compared to his own homeworld. Hundreds of Lucherek-class cruisers hung in space, curving large arms surrounded orb-like centers that were connected to the half-circle hulls by a thick bridge.

_Maybe this was a mistake. _

Sidious had said that blockading the Imperial planet would embolden other Rim worlds into similar protest. He had promised them that it would be a quick affair- a show of force to get the demilitarized Empire to lower trade route taxation. The bill itself had been ratified by Emperor Finis Valorum two years prior, an act that was created to weaken the growing Trade Federation. Profits had plummeted as the corrupt Empire filled their coffers with credits that belonged to Nute.

"Viceroy Nute Gunray, a ship has appeared in the Roshi sector. Hyperspace afterfuel leakage links its previous location to Coruscant." A man called from the bridge, his face covered with blue images reflected from his screen.

_The Jedi. _

"Allow them to dock. And establish a signal." Nute ordered as the man clicked away at his console.

_I will survive this. _


	2. Chapter 2

-Chapter two-

"Anakin."

The young Jedi's mind had been trained to remove any straying thought or musing once it recognized Obi-wan's voice. Anakin Skywalker looked up from the wide viewport in the streamlined chambers the Federation had given them. The boy smoothed down his green jumpsuit, and tightened the blue scarf that surrounded his neck, brushing against an upturned collar. A crudely crafted lightsaber waited on his belt, clinking as he turned to face Obi-wan Kenobi.

Previously, his eyes had marveled at the bright blue and green planet of Naboo. White clouds swirled at the polar caps of the world, while between them the eye found a glimmering jewel made up of azure seas and verdant landmasses. But now, Anakin regarded his master. Obi-wan was still relatively young, a man in his middle twenties with hair that brushed against his cheeks. He was a stoic man, calm and reserved. In those serious eyes, however, lingered a kind-hearted soul who would do his very best to fulfill any task assigned to him. He wore the typical garb of a Jedi Knight: A light brown tunic that traveled down to the edge of his inner thighs in the form of two loose flaps, while his legs wore similarly colored loose-fitting trousers with high russet boots. At his waist shined his own lightsaber, perfectly crafted as it waited from a clip that was found on the side of his belt. Over all of this, however, Obi-wan wore a dark earthy robe with a heavy hood.

"Yes, Master?" Anakin put his hands on his waist as he stood before the man. As he looked at Obi-wan now, he felt a tinge of jealousy. He would never wear the traditional robes: the order _tolerated_ him, but he was promised that he would not be officially inducted into the Jedi ranks. Obi-wan, in uncharacteristic defiance, vowed he would train Anakin based on the will of Qui-gon Jinn, Obi-wan's master. The union Obi-wan shared with Anakin was not built on choosing, but was rather a bond created from a grim sense of duty. In some ways, Anakin believed the young Jedi Knight resented him for that.

"What do you sense?" Obi-wan motioned for Anakin to sit down. The boy found a white chair opposite from his master. At that moment, a protocol-droid entered into the chambers, walking in a halting imitation of human movement as it unceremoniously dropped a platter of food and drink onto the table.

"Nute Gunray will be with you shortly." The droid said in dead monotone. It left at that, with the doors closing behind its wake with a heavy _click. _

"I sense . . . " Anakin closed his eyes. He felt the force within him, and moved it as one would move a flashlight in a dark cave. His mind exploded as he instantly could hear dozens of voices, count hundreds of heartbeats. He saw every step, he felt the air that pumped from cooling vents, and he sensed the emotion of the dozens of sentiments that worked inside the ship.

"Apprehension." Anakin answered as he opened his eyes. Obi-wan gave him a wan smile.

"Better. You have improved in detecting emotion through the connection we have with the force. But there is more, my padawan." Obi-wan placed his elbows onto the table, and pressed two gloved hands into each other. Closing his own eyes, he spoke slowly.

"Beyond apprehension, there is some other things you missed. Fear rules here. Everyone on the station is on edge. This emotion seemed centered on the central bridge. Someone died recently. What's more . . . there is a hint of deception. But is this deception directed towards us? I cannot say. I would hardly state that the emotion is not commonplace, especially among the cut-throat ranks of the Federation." Obi-wan opened his eyes. He suddenly looked tired.

_He has lived a hard life. _ Anakin knew that almost half of Obi-wan's life had been spent fighting a war that killed countless Jedi; many of them his friends. The ten year Hyperspace War weakened not only the Empire, but also the Order itself. In addition to the young Jedi that met an early grave, the orders greatest abruptly left, Qui-Gon Jinn among them. They spoke of going to go discover what led Stark, or rather, what _gave_ Stark the power to raise such a massive offensive against the Empire, and what could convince such a coalition of racially and culturally diverse Rim Worlds to join into one cohesive fighting force. It has been three years since then, and no word has been heard of the Jedi. Many took them for dead.

"We have seen the blockade," Anakin began, placing a hand on his chin in thought.

"I doubt they would simply let us return to Coruscant. We have proof of Lott Dodd's lies, clearly." He tapped his other hand on the durasteel table, the pads of his fingers creating a steady beat.

"Do you think they would kill us?" Anakin glanced up at his Master. Obi-wan looked at Anakin, and then _past _him, eying the planet of Naboo over Anakin's small shoulders.

"It is possible. Though it will be difficult. I know Tarkin will call foul play if anything should happen to us, no matter what the occasion. However, it would be easily done. Lott Dodd controls the Senate. Any motion put through to investigate our deaths would be rebuffed by a Rim-World dominated vote." Obi-wan returned his gaze to Anakin.

"We must be very careful." He warned ominously. Anakin removed his arms from the table and folded them over a small chest.

"I don't understand. Naboo is an Imperial planet. Why would we need to _vote_ to investigate Imperial interests?"

Obi-wan smiled thinly. "Law and bureaucracy. The Trade Federation invested millions of credits into the development of Naboo for its natural resources. It has joint control of the planet, and what's more, Federation stocks dominate the market. Therefore, it would be illegal for the to simply send ships without a Senate-approved warrant, due to the fact that the Empire no longer has complete control of the system."

Anakin _tisked. _"The Senate should be dissolved. They do nothing but filibuster and veto bills that go against business interest. That is hardly fair ruling."

"The Empire won the war but lost the galaxy." Obi-wan said rather poetically, removing his hood.

"Gunray comes. Keep your senses aware." He whispered. Anakin's own precognitive abilities alerted him to the opening of the door before it actually occurred. He watched the pneumatic gate hiss open, while a Neimoidian strutted in. The alien had mottled green skin, and wore a black headdress that covered his entire head, while thick tendrils of his head-covering traveled down to the being's chest. It wore ceremonial robes: A high-collared unisex dressing that covered him from neck to boot. Slim arms were obviously uncomfortable in tight sleeves, while chubby hands which ended in long-nailed fingers wrung themselves anxiously. Two beige-colored battle droids flanked the man, skeletal with long hound like heads. Two black photoreceptors acted as eyes, while a signal-receiver crafted onto the droid's back gave it the appearance of carrying some light cargo.

_B-1 battle droids. _

"Master Jedi," Nute Gunray bowed cordially.

"Welcome, welcome." Nute Gunray's reptilian eyes shifted to the untouched food on their shared table.

"I see you did not have a hunger or thirst." He stated nervously, pulling at his collar. Anakin scrunched his nose. The sentient _reeked_. What's more, waves of fear came rolling off of it, like water passing over a small pebble. Anakin smirked at that to himself- in some ways he liked to be feared. He was such a small child, it gave him a sense of pride that another being feared his existence.

"No, we did not. My name is Obi-wan Kenobi, and this is my padawan, Anakin Skywalker. And you are no doubt Viceroy Nute Gunray." Obi-wan said with a kind smile.

"Y-yes. I will have you know that you are here illegally, as detailed in the Imperial signed treaty that ceded portions of Naboo to the Trade Federa-" Nute Gunray was cut off by Obi-wan.

"And now it seems you have taken military action towards the planet, Gunray." Anakin's master spoke coolly, with an almost chilling neutrality in his voice.

Nute Gunray's skin turned a lighter shade of green as he opened his mouth and closed it like a fish gasping once it has been pulled to the surface.

"Also, said treaty does not give you the authority to _blockade _a planet that is under Imperial sovereignty. Theed still flies Imperial colors, Gunray. And you have taken upon yourself to hold all objects of trade between Naboo and her sister planet of Alderaan."

"This is peaceful protest against unfair laws of taxation! The Imperial High Senate has profited from trade that belongs to the Federation!" Nute Gunray cried. Anakin smiled as Obi-wan simply stared at the man, unmoving. Nute Gunray breathed heavily as he looked at Obi-wan, wiping a hand across a forehead slick with sweat.

"What are you planning, Gunray?" Obi-wan said, spearing the silence between the two of them.

" . . . The Trade Federation simply wants reparations, Master Jedi. We have been cheated." Nute Gunray said with exhaustion. Obi-wan gave him a patient grin.

"This is not the way to go about it, Viceroy. Once the senate hears of this, there will be no stopping the hammer of judgment." Obi-wan picked up his drink, sniffed it, and placed it back down onto the table. Anakin noticed how Nute watched him, akin to how a Concordian hive-rat watches a raptorcat's every movement.

"There are some things that must be done, Master Jedi. I represent the billions of oppressed worlds that wish for nothing but the justice and treatment the Core receives! By rights, every Rim-World sentient is an Imperial citizen!" Gunray said with rising bile.

"Once the Federation rose through the ranks of galactic hierarchy , breaking through walls upon walls of corruption and human racism, we finally began to see profits from our efforts. Trade flowed between the outer and mid rim, and even a few Core worlds. We made the mistake of attempting to expand operations in the Core, only to find our business taxed without proper representation!" Gunray shouted, slamming hand into the air.

"Gunray," Obi-wan began softly, "You speak true. But that does not explain why you have taken _military operations of aggression _against Naboo." He regarded the Viceroy with icy eyes.

"Military operations? Have any beings died? Have any shots been fired?" Gunray said incredulously.

"Your mind is addled by Coruscanti ale, Master Jedi." Nute Gunray said with a nervous laugh. Anakin sensed something then, a spike of something stronger than apprehension.

_Obi-wan is on to something. There is more to this blockade than meets the eye. _

"I fought in the Hyperspace Wars, Gunray." Obi-wan stated simply. Nute bobbed his head.

"A terrible conflict. I was a simple minister of the Federation in those years." Gunray wiped another layer of sweat from his face. Anakin could smell the body odor curling off of the creature, waves of it traveling on the cooling current exhumed from vents that covered the room.

"There is a difference between a trade blockade and one that is meant for war. In a trade blockade, ships will rarely be positioned above known planetary launch points. What's more, turbolaser batteries will often be _turned_ away from the planet. That is what is involved in a so called peaceful blockade. However, this blockade follows the space-drift chart organization adopted by Imperial generals during the war." Obi-wan looked up to Nute.

_What kind of moron assumes such a position? He must have underestimated human intellect. _

"I did not think-" Nute Gunray stopped, and swallowed hard as he blinked sweat away from his eyes. His stench was bordering on unbearable.

"You will be escorted to your hangar. Please leave at once." He said stiffly, and fled from the room, his droids clanking after him.

Obi-wan stood, wrapping his robes around an athletic body.

"They will attempt to kill us." Obi-wan leveled his eyes on Anakin.

"But not now. They will let us leave." Anakin ventured. Obi-wan nodded with a small smile.

"You've grown adapt on using the Force to identify the chemical pheromones given off by sentients. It is a good way to detect emotion." Obi-wan faced the door as two droid guards appeared.

"Follow us, please." They ordered. Anakin stood from his chair, the green jumpsuit he wore whispering as he moved.

_I have a bad feeling about this. _


	3. Chapter 3

"The price of democracy." Finis Valorum said morbidly as he viewed the Coruscanti skyline. Wilhuff Tarkin folded wiry arms behind his back, and raised his pointed chin towards an Emperor he no longer believed in. The Tarkins had served the Empire for hundreds of years. Even more than that- they had been around in the days of the _Republic. _But now, Wilhuff could see the grand Empire that his father and his father's _father_ served was dying a slow death, like a giant Zillo Beast that has been impaled in the stomach by a spear, forced to do nothing but lie about as life blood slowly trickles away from the body. Finis Valorum's royal chambers were located in the high spires of the Imperial District, a collection of impressive structures that lied directly across from the gaze of the five-towered Jedi Temple. It was an oval-shaped room, furnished with bronze statues of various Jedi from days past. On the walls, a relief was found detailing Lord Hoth's victory during the Seventh Battle of Ruusan.

"Democracy is a foolish concept. Giving the Rim-worlds seats is another." Wilhuff snapped. He had a sharp way of speaking, a crispness to it. Wilhuff himself had practiced years ago to adapt his voice- to make it stronger and precise. With a rolling of his tongue he could add a certain torque to every statement, a whip to every musing. When one did not have the powers of the Force, they must learn to be able to gain the advantage over allies _and _enemies. Wilhuff was not a Jedi and he was not skilled in any type of martial art; but he did possess his intellect and a cutting tone that silenced even the greatest of men, a voice that demanded attention.

"The Jedi deemed it would bring peace." Finis turned from the office viewport. He was an aging man, around the same age as Wilhuff. They had both grown together as Imperial nobles: Finis trained at the Imperial Knight academy, an off-shot Jedi entity that focused on producing bodyguards and covert spies as opposed to "protectors of the peace." While Finis danced with a lightsaber, Wilhuff was being prepped for war. At an early age he was taught military maneuvers, studying the actions of the most militant commanders to ever threaten the galaxy. Mandalore the Ultimate, Naga Sadow, Lord Hoth, and the fallen Jedi Darth Revan. It was from them that he gleaned his tactics, and it was to them that he owed his victories.

But now he was no longer the Imperial High Commander. After the army had been disbanded, there was no reason for him to retain his office. Wilhuff Tarken had been assigned to the Imperial High Senate, and additionally had been given a seat on the Rotunda to represent Eriadu. Both of those offices paled in comparison to the power he once held. On the Rotuna he was forced to watch as aliens from a thousand worlds voted negatively in relation to Imperial interests. Power was being siphoned from them, and it would not be long until war broke out.

"And are we at peace, my Emperor?" Wilhuff asked. Finis ran a hand through his gray-silver hair. The color was seen as the _mark of Hoth. _The planet had been named after him, due to the fact that the snow-covered world shared the same bleached-white color as Hoth's locks.

"It is not a good peace, Tarkin. But it is peace. I would rather have disgruntled rim worlds than the horror we faced during the Hyperspace conflicts." Finis placed both of his hands on the desk before him.

"Do you truly believe this will last? Those worlds are being _roused _ into action again. Lott Dodd is attempting to build Federation membership. They have already shown their military power."

"I have been told that their might stems from no other reason than to protect their worlds. It is not militarization."

Wilhuff gave Finis a sad and disdainful smile.

_Tarsus Valorum, your son pisses upon your legacy. _

" They are building an army based on their member worlds. Every tiny outpost is given free reign to develop a military quadrant that has a larger population than the world they protect. I still watch the hyperspace drift charts, Finis. The Federation is _mobilizing. _What you need to do is re-enact the Imperial Grand Army." Tarkin leaned forward, eying Finis with his pale pupils.

"I will not." Finis said with finality.

"You would let this Empire _die?" _ Tarkin shouted, raising his arm in the air as he pointed an accusatory finger at Finis.

"I refuse to believe anybody, even _you, _could be so foolish. Your Empire is dying from within. You need to remove the Rotunda, return the Military to its proper place. Chancellor Palpatine agrees with me." Tarkin lowered his voice as Finis treated him an angry glare.

" I did not know you had spoken with the Chancellor." Finis looked down to his hands, which were wrapped into one another as they formed a bridge underneath his nose.

"He has said the same things to me, now I know the source of such musings. The difference is, Tarkin, Palpatine respects my decision. I will not bring war back to this galaxy. I do not need my children to be raised in terror." Finis said with determination. Tarkin laughed bitterly as he half turned away from the Emperor.

"Your sons were still at the teat by the time the war ended. And they were never at threat. Corsuscant was not touched by Stark."

"But it _could _have been! He was determined to-"

"Destroy the Empire. But what stopped him? Not squabbling aliens floating around on disks, I tell you. What prevented him from achieving victory was the army. What is going to stop them now?"

"Who? There is no one who can threaten us." Finis said with confidence.

"Open your _eyes_ you fool! The Trade Federation stands at our doorstep with weapons and numbers to destroy us. They may follow your lead now, but once they gain enough strength, they will attack the Core. What has happened on Naboo-"

"Was nothing but a protest on taxation. Nothing more." Valorum smiled thinly at Tarkin.

"If we mobilized an army after every protest, what would we be?" He asked Tarkin. Wilhuff shook his head as anger rose from his stomach.

"You are inept, Emperor Finis." He turned and left as automated doors opened to the step of his boots. He could feel Finis' eyes watching him as he stormed from the room, his face red with fury. Outside his office, a long hall was found, with several doors leading to other parts of the overall structure. Below him speeders of varying sizes zoomed in organized lines of traffic while buses slowed and stopped at metallic cliffs, disgorging passengers as twice as many took up their spaces. He wondered how far the corrupt seeped. He had lived on the surface levels of Coruscant his entire life, but he knew that below was a world rife with lawless violence. Corruption was absolute, and Finis was content to let it thrive.

"Senator Tarkin!"

Wilhuff's eyes rose from the sights below to see an aged man rushing towards him, while horned Chagrian walked in his shadow with blue colored skin.

"Chancellor Palpatine." Tarkin bowed cordially as Palpatine did the same. Wilhuff flashed a glance towards the Chagrian and greeted the alien as politely he was able.

"Mass Amedda." Tarkin said flatly. The chagrian bowed gratefully all the same.

"You are on your way to Finis' office?" Tarkin inquired. Palpatine nodded as his graying red hair shined in the light of the sun.

"I have already spoken to the man. He refuses to listen to any reason." Tarkin sighed. Palpatine gave Tarkin a steady glance.

"He will see the danger, Tarkin. Or else we will see the death of our nation." Palpatine responded. Wilhuff Tarkin frowned and brushed past Palpatine, his boots clicking on the plated ground.

"I hope he will find the logic in your voice, Palpatine. The Gods know he doesn't find it in mine."

"I did not know you believed in Gods." Palpatine called after Tarkin, laughter in his voice. Wilhuff Tarkin turned as the doors to the transport shuttle opened before him.

"I don't; but perhaps I should start. Gods are the only thing that could bring us salvation, once the Trade Federation attacks."

With that, Tarkin stepped into the shuttle, and descended into the lower bowels of the Imperial district.

_I will initiate a vote of no-confidence towards Finis. I am sorry, Tarsus. You raised me as if I was your own son, but the trueborn heir you left behind was never meant to rule. _


	4. Chapter 4

"They will plan to kill us."

Obi-wan could feel the killing intent onboard the Trade Federation ship. The question was, however, _when._ Captain Typho, a dark-skinned human member of the Coruscant defense force clicked at the controls, a heavy frown on his face. He wore the twenty-piece plasteel armor of his vocation, black mesh underneath the segmented pieces. He did not wear the unique-looking T-visor while he piloted their craft, but the armor alone was enough to remind Obi-wan of the war. Before Typho, that same armor had been worn by Clone Troopers.

The Jedi Knight shuddered as they flew through the blockade. War was coming . . . the Trade Federation planned to attack Naboo, and there was little Obi-wan could do. He was a Jedi Knight, a bastion of peace, yet he could not succeed in his mission.

"They have cleared us for hypserspace." Typho announced as he punched in the coordinates to Coruscant. Anakin coughed behind them.

"So if they aren't going to kill us now, when will they?" Anakin asked cheerfully. Obi-wan frowned, turning in his seat to regard his padawan learner.

"I do not know. Keep your mind and thoughts aware, Anakin. Let the Living Force flow freely." Anakin, sensing the somberness in Obi-wan's tone, nodded obediently and fell silent. Space began to bend as they were pulled into hyperspace, impossible speeds able to be achieved thanks to the ship's hyperdrive. They could travel halfway across the galaxy in a matter of hours, and in relative safety. As their ship entered the blue-tunnel like hyper-space route, Typho leaned backwards and placed his hands behind his head.

"Now we wait." Typho turned in his seat, but suddenly Obi-wan felt a surge in the force.

"Something is wrong," He said softly as he leaned forward. In short time, they slowed as their ship was pulled from Hyperpsace.

"Damn it! Only a vessel that has our heat signature could do this!" Typho whirled in his chair and choked the controls; attempting to fight the unknown force that hailed them. In was a futile attempt, however, as they suddenly were dropped in the unfamiliar black expanse of space. Obi-wan nearly jumped as the proximity alarms began screaming, and on the control screen, he spied six red dots honing in on their location.

"Brigands. The Federation must have given them our I.d.s . . . " Typho swore.

"Does this ship have any defense capabilities?" Obi-wan inquired.

"One mounted battery.", Typho began clicking away at the glowing interface on the controls.

"The closest planet in this system is Tatooine. We can attempt another jump." He said.

"But won't they be able to pull us back out again?" Anakin leaned in next to Obi-wan's head, hot breath brushing against his ear.

"No. We'll be able to complete the jump before they have time. However . . . I need some time of my own to recalibrate the hyperdrive. Someone needs to get on those guns." Typho looked at Obi-wan, and then Anakin.

"You up for it, Jedi?" He questioned. Obi-wan nodded as the proximity alarms reached a deafening crescendo.

"Okay, get up there, then. The ships are coming!" Typho bellowed, and Obi-wan ran to the small hallway that separated the cockpit and the cargo bay. On the left wall a ladder was found, and Obi-wan climbed it, reaching the turret lasers. It was a circular orb protrusion on the roof of the ship, quad-lasers grafted to the sides of it. Obi-wan grunted as he climbed into the gunner's seat, spying pirate ships as they zoomed by. He cleared his mind as the ships came around for their attack run, weapons charging. Focusing on the force, he closed his eyes and fired.

Two of the pirate ships were caught in the wrath of his lasers, while a third went veering away. The two remaining craft swerved in the air, separating as Obi-wan's blasts went harmlessly past them.

"Only a little longer!" Typho cried from the cockpit. Obi-wan focused deeper onto the force, sensing the emotion coming from the two remaining pilots. They were intent on staying separate, meaning that Obi-wan could only attack one of them while they went on their next pass. Frowning, he swerved his turret into position as the ships came by one final pass. A blast rocked them as Obi-wan fired, destroying one of the craft as the last one fled. Their own ship began to move, a high-pitched whine ushering them into Hyperspace. Climbing from the gunner's seat, Obi-wan returned to the cockpit, finding a smiling Anakin and amused Typho.

"That was awesome!" Anakin cheered, while Typho let out a chuckle.

"I didn't think you had it in you, Jedi. But they hit us. Bad." Typho waited until Obi-wan was back in his seat.

"That last blast grazed our Hyperdrive core. We'll make it to Tatooine . . . but nothing further than that."

Being trapped on Tatooine was not something Obi-wan was looking forward to.

"On planet could we get in contact with Coruscant?" He asked. Typho shook his head grimly.

"We're too far away from the core. Besides, the Federation may investigate any systems in this sector, just to be safe. It would be prudent for us not to narrow down their search. Without any ghost-comm systems, we can't send a secure signal." Typho sighed as he finished.

"So we're going to need a new ship." Anakin offered. Typho turned around and nodded at the boy.

"Precisely. How we are to do that on Tatooine with no money . . . I have no idea."

"The force will find a way." Obi-wan assured.

_I just pray we don't come across Anakin's mother. The boy may not be ready for her. Not yet. _


	5. Chapter 5

HE WAS a servant of the Dark Side. Maul drew his brows in together, focusing his mind and channeling his energy until he felt the robes he wore dangle from his body. He opened his eyes slowly, finding himself several meters above the ground. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and he drew his teeth back in a snarl.

"Now!" He cried as he allowed himself to fall to the ground. At his command, combat droids spilled into the room. Closing his eyes, he drew his lightsaber. The dual blades of the weapon ignited in a howling thunder, sparks spraying as Maul cut through the hapless droids. He spun and turn and jumped and summersaulted- wielding the dangerous weapon as if it had been born with him. Breathing heavily, he opened his eyes. He saw the charred and dismembered bodies of more than a dozen droids.

_If only they had been Jedi. _Maul knelt down once more, deactivating his blade and allowing his mind to drift into meditation. He often remembered his Master, Darth Sidious, when he did this. When Sidious found him on Iridonia all of those years ago, Maul had suffered a grievous head wound, not from directly fighting in battle but rather from the various shrapnel and debris that flew about as the Mandalorian and Stark forces were butchered by Imperial turbolaser batteries. In the flamed aftermath, he was left for dead. His head bled profusely, and one of his fledgling horns had been cut. Sidious, cloaked in darkness, came to him.

"Are you a Jedi?" Maul asked, remembering the event as if it had just happened.

"Yes." Sidious had said. With a snarl, the young Maul ignored his pain and reached for Sidious, attempting to claw out his throat. The Dark Lord held him back with the damnable _Force, _laughing softly.

"You're strong." Sidious lifted the writhing Maul in the air, bringing him closer to a waiting and gloved hand. Slowly, the pain in Maul's head vanished. Dropping to the ground, the young zabrak tentatively reached for his broken horn- and found it whole and complete.

"How . . . " He asked.

"You asked me if I was a Jedi. I walk a similar path, but above all else, I crave power. I crave respect. I can feel those emotions within you. You carry the same power as I do."

Maul looked at his red hands, closing them into fists.

"Do you want revenge, boy? Do you know who did this?" Sidious inquired.

"The Republic. The Jedi." Maul answered. Sidious' robes billowed while silence passed between them.

"Can you teach me to use that power?" Maul looked up to the shadowy face that a heavy hood obscured.

"You will have your revenge. What your name was is of no import- that part of you is dead. From now on, you are _Darth Maul." _

Many months after that day, the young Maul learned through his studies that the title _Darth _was an old and regal name from the long-gone Sith race, who had threatened the Jedi many times thousands of years ago. The race themselves no longer existed- but their creed lived on. Now, only two _Sith _existed at any point in time: The Master, one who embodies power; And the Apprentice, the one to crave it. Maul's mind was drawn back into the present as the blue visage of his Master fizzled into life before him.

"Master Sidious," Maul bowed his head at the cloaked man. Despite being with the Sith for nearly ten years, Maul had never seen Sidious' face. It was one of the many things that added to the mystery of the Sith.

"Nute Gunray and his allies will shortly run out of their use." Sidious' voice was buffed by dark side energies- causing it to become muffled yet clear, loud yet barely above a whisper.

"Do you wish them dead, my Master?" Maul asked. Assassination had been one of the skills that Maul quickly learned and became adapt at. The large cowl of his master shifted from side to side.

"No. They will meet their deaths soon enough. I still need them. They are the de-facto leaders of the mounting discontent that is found in the Mid and Outer rims. I did not predict their cowardice and ineptitude, but I believe the _plan _will continue as my master and _his _master have foreseen it.

_The destruction of the Jedi. _

"What do you need of me, Master?" Maul sat upright, presenting himself ready.

"As we speak, my agents are spreading word amongst the politicians in the Rotunda. They propose a _Rebel Confederacy Alliance." _

Sidious continued: "Naboo will soon become a theatre of war. The Empire will not allow Naboo to remain under Trade Federation control. Emperor Finis Valorum will strike. Our victory at Naboo will assure the numerous leaders found among the Outer Rims that we are strong, and that we will topple this stagnate Empire. Your task, Maul, is to hold Naboo when it comes under attack."

Maul bowed his head deeply.

"It will be done, Master."

Sidious vanished. Maul sat, still and silent as excitement filled his body. He would not fail Sidious, the man that taught him everything. He would prove his worth to his master; prove his worth to the Dark Side.


	6. Chapter 6

"Master Sheelal, you know why the Council has called you here. You know _why_ you stand here." Mace Windu brought a thin hand to his face and stroked the pointed beard that started from full lips and outlined a square chin the color of dark wood.

Qymaen Jai Sheelal's mandibles twitched from behind a white ceremonial mask, a marking of his former position as _Du'aga (Prince)_ of his homeworld, Kalee. In fact, much of his outfit reflected the dual responsibilities he held- The tan colored tunic and earthy black boots combined with a smooth and brown belt from which two lightsabers hung marked him as a Jedi Master. However, instead of the plain hooded robes of the Order, he wore a red and black cloak with a flayed and tattered edge, tied to the turban that kept his bone-mask in place and ending at the base of his ankles. The cloak signified his place among his kind, the Kaleesh. He was the son of a warlord.

"I understand why you have called me. I know what I have done." Qymaen's yellow and slitted eyes narrowed on the face of Mace Windu. Grand Master of the Order after Yoda's departure, the man had become nothing more than a malleable tool of the human-centric Imperial High Senate. Mace was once a good man- but his position and newfound power had corrupted him, as it had done to all of the Jedi. Very few still walked the honorable path- the same road that brought Qymaen back to Coruscant, standing before a Jedi tribunal.

"You invaded the Huk homeworld and burned their cities. Killed their children." Another master spoke, this one named Ki Adi Mundi. He was an alien, marked by his strange and elongated head. Instead of helping fellow non-humans, he would often put them down to secure his own position.

"I did such things because the Kaleesh tribes had been attacked by the Huk. Their cries for help went unheeded by the Empire, and by the Jedi. I had no choice." Qymaen remembered well enough: He had brought the Huk attacks to the council numerous times, only to be rebuffed. When his father died in battle, Qymaen returned to Kalee and vanquished the Huk. However, he didn't not stop there. He then invaded their planet, taking valuable food and provisions so that his people could survive.

"The actions of the Huk were none of your concern. When you were inducted into the Order, your father affirmed that you would lose all of your inherited positions. You knew this, Master Sheelal." Mace Windu lowered his head, green eyes shining from underneath dark and heavy brows.

"The sons of Tiloen Jai Sheelal had all died from the hands of the Huk. I was the only one left. How many of you could stand idly by as your people were massacred? As your sisters were raped and killed, as the head of your father rots upon a stake on the land his family had owned for generations? Biological attacks on Kalee's ecosystem will take dozens of years to reverse . . . my people were being starved and hunted down like animals. The Huk would not rest until every one of us was dead or enslaved."

The council chambers were silent. Qymaen knew that they could not refute this statement. It was no secret that the Huk intended to destroy all of the Kaleesh, a holy jihad of sorts. The black-skinned Huk were a near-human species, the only thing separating them from humans being their green-within-green eyes. However, they viewed themselves _as_ humans, and could not rest with the idea of the foreign Kalee inhabiting one of their moons.

"It was not your place to take action, Sheelal. You are a Jedi, not a warrior. Those days are long since past. We are peacekeepers." Master Eeth Koth spoke next, his calm voice and visage contrasting with the anger in his black eyes. When the Huk sent word to the Empire, the Imperials sent a security force of two hundred men- led by Eeth Koth. Sheelal was forced to fight against his fellow Jedi Master while the Huk capital burned in this second battle. On the edge of victory, Sheelal surrendered at the sight of Imperial special agents threatening the last of his species with death.

"We are not warriors? You fought soundly on Huk. Your skills of combat are most impressive, Master Koth." Sheelal cocked his head slightly, and fire raged beneath Eeth's eyes as his jaw tightened. Mace Windu eyed the exchange and raised his hand.

"Enough. I will not have personal attacks take the place of justice on this Council."

Qymaen looked out to the window that curved and spread around the chamber. From here, it was possible to see the entire spread of the Imperial District- a striking and impressive jungle of tall buildings while expensive speeders and low-flying space craft zoomed in orderly perfection.

"You answered the Huk call for distress, yet the Kaleesh went unanswered. Why is that?" The various Jedi passed glances at Qymaen's question.

"It is because the Huk are a near-human species, while the Kaleesh aren't. That is the truth, isn't it? In addition to the fact that the Huk are a lucrative trade partner in Kalaso, the addictive ingredient in Death Sticks."

"The reasons are irrelevant. The fact of the matter is you invaded a world, and started a war. You were wise to surrender, Sheelal. If you had wounded Master Koth, you would not be standing here today." Ki Adi Mundi bore a thin smile while he spoke.

"Master Sheelal, you went against the direction of the Order and caused great pain to both Kalee and Huk. For these reasons, you are being reproved from the Jedi Order. In time, you may learn from your mistakes. I am sorry, Sheelal." Mace Windu's words were genuine. Qymaen had fought alongside Mace during the Hyperspace War, and had even saved him from certain death on numerous occasions. They had formed a friendship, one that was shattered when Mace was chosen to lead the Jedi in Master Yoda's stead.

"What will happen to my padawan?" Sheelal asked.

"Padawan Tann will be reassigned to Master Shaak Ti. After review, it was seen that they share numerous qualities. It is believed by the Council that Tann will thrive in this new environment." Qymaen's face twitched yet again.

"Then there is nothing left to discuss." He said shortly, turning and making his way for the automatic doors.

"One more thing- Sheelal. Your lightsabers."

Qymaen's heel touched the smooth durasteel flooring of the long hallway leading away from the chamber as Master Koth's voice reached his audioreceptors. Qymaen turned and regarded the Jedi smugly sitting in his soft chair.

"If you believe you can take them, then by all means Master Koth, take them." Qymaen waited while Koth simply looked on from the adjoining room. Finally, the Zabrak smiled weakly and averted his gaze. Sheelal clicked his heels onto the floor and made his way down the hall, no longer a Jedi of the Empire. He found himself in a tube-like elevator, clear glass making Coruscant visible to the naked eye as he descended to the lower portions of the Jedi Temple. He closed his eyes as he was carried downwards.

_One of the strongest of their Order a Jedi no longer. The audacity of the Council. _

His elevator came to a stop, the glass doors opening with a hiss. He was in the main court of the Temple, a magnificent fountain taking center stage among dancing statues spread about the cobbled peach-colored stone. Jedi of a thousand species walked about, talking and laughing and frowning, their lightsabers shining from brown dressings. Due to the fact that many aliens were force sensitive, long ago the human-created Jedi Order had abandoned most aspects of racism. However, once an alien was a Jedi, they often viewed themselves as better than their fellow beings, and looked down on them the same as any human would.

"Master!"

Qymaen saw Sev'Rance Tann out of the corner of his eye while his clawed fingers curled around the open elevator doors. Her blue skin contrasted deeply with her black tunic and robe, a silver lightsaber hanging from her belt. She was a Chiss, one of the few that ventured outside of the secretive Chiss Empire. Every once in a while, the Chiss would send an unmanned ship filled with a handful of force sensitive babies to Coruscant. The Chiss often killed any among their people with force sensitivity, meaning that these saved children were most likely the offspring of important officials or nobles, beings who could not stand to see their offspring killed and disposed of like trash.

(Part two coming soon sorry!)


End file.
